When I moved to Seattle, I was pretty surprised to discover that nobody (and I mean nobody) has air-conditioned apartments or houses. I asked a few people about it, and their responses were always pretty similar, “You won’t need it. You’ll get, maybe, 2 days a year where you might have used it, and those won’t even be that bad.” And for the first 3 years I lived here, they were right. Things never really got that bad, and I never really missed the air conditioning that was just an assumption back in Virginia.

Until this summer. Not only has it been hotter than normal, but my current apartment is miserable in the heat. It faces west, and has big windows to soak up lots of hot air. I have a little thermometer hanging up in my closet, and it’s been averaging around 88 degrees when I go to bed for the night. Inside my bedroom. 88. And recently it’s been even hotter.

I’m not actually going to go out and buy a portable A/C unit or anything. My lease is running out, and I’ll probably just move. When I pick out my next place, though, I’m going to carefully check which way the windows face, what kind of shade they’re in, and so on. But I feel bad for whoever moves in after me, because this apartment needs air conditioning. It’s just too hot without it.

Anyway, that’s enough complaining for one day. Other than the heat, things have been good. I’ve finally finished my crazy poker stretch, and I’m looking forward to relaxing for a while. Oh, I’m sure I’ll still play every now and then, but certainly not as much as I have been. That was just crazy. I got back from Las Vegas two nights ago, and my cold is feeling much better. I’m not sure how I managed to actually get over my cold while I was in Vegas (I certainly wasn’t taking it easy), but that’s what seems to have happened, and I’m willing to accept it.